The Hat Wars
by darksniper45
Summary: My take on the non canonical story entry in the tf universe. we follow our heroes in a POV struggle to win the war for hats and defeat the legacy of Greytarch mann please, please review, its my first fan fic!


April, 1999:  
Darkness covers the land. Much blood has been spilt in the name of gerytarch Mann's hat franchise. In one instance, grey Mann decided to release a new type of hat to the Mann co store:  
Robotic hats. Many of the mercenaries were without a cause to fight, and had a lot of money to spend, so they decided to spin the wheel and buy a few.

Back to the point at hand. The year is 1999, and a bitter war is soon ensure for ownership of greytarch Mann's hats. Many will battle and die for the hats. But no one knows truly why. Only five people remain that remember the fateful day in 1973 and before... Saxton hale, now an old and frail man, has lost his old image with the disappearance of the famed australium. He is but a shell now, awaiting the fateful day when he will leave this world.  
Aletta pauling still lives, as a teacher in her home town of London, England.  
Then we come to the last three that live. The last three that survived the years. The wars for gravel, the machines, the hardships and gritty ends, held together by the bonds formed during those times.  
Dell conagher, living as he did all those years ago, as an intrepid pioneer, a creator of truly great wonders. He resides on a quiet ranch, in central Texas.  
Secondly, we have Julian Mundy, the deadly sniper. He lives in the high creeks of Alaska, as a hunter. Not much more is known about him during his later years; he cut ties with his past life a long time ago.  
Lastly, we have the now professional base baller, Donald Johnson. He left Mann co with 12 million cubic metres of tom Jones memorabilia, and on the fateful day of the latter's death, Donald became a very rich man. He invested in the best training money could buy and decided to become a baseball all-star. He now lives in L.A.

But those are fragments of their pasts. I am going to tell you the story of their present. Each one from their point of view.

Saxton Hale  
He lies in his bed, pondering the meaning of it all. The whys, the hows, and the what fors. As he thinks, he finds his thoughts spoken aloud to himself in the dimly lit room:  
"God, I've seen it all. I burnt hippies at Woodstock. I've punched sharks, bears and kangaroos so hard in their faces that they exploded. I sold those morons good weapons and good hats for reasonable prices. I even renewed their contracts so they could pile drive that ass hole, grey. All for nothing."  
He sits up, his back resting on the blue satin headboard of his king sized bed. He coughs sharply and finds a blob of blood resting on his chicken skinned chin. Suddenly, he's speaking aloud again:  
"Who would have thought? The great Saxton hale, killed by lung cancer. I'm 80. Too young to be dying. God. I hate this. There must be some austrailium left in this world... Just where?"  
He slowly rises to his feet. He stands shorter than he did a long time ago. His wrinkled skin hangs heavily where his muscles once bulged, and his once magnificent chest and face of hair is nothing more than an arrangement of thin grey prickles.  
He looks himself over in a mirror for a while, remembering the good days. He coughs loudly to himself, and it snaps him back to reality. He drags his feet as he shuffles to the stairs. Taking slow steps, he makes it to his kitchen. He makes a pot of coffee and sits to read the news. His eyes widen at the headline:  
'OLD VINTAGE GREY MANN HATS RESURFACE IN TEXAS!'  
its not the headline that gets his attention, its the subtitle:

'Element researcher, Jerry Malison finds traces of long lost australium in the nickle-tin alloy.'

Saxton stands as quickly as he can, grabs his phone and calls the Sydney airport.  
"Hello, sir how can I help you today?"  
Asks a fair voiced check-in clerk.  
"One ticket. Next flight to Texas. Name your price."

Dell Conagher  
"Now what in tarnation... "  
The old engineer murmurs as he looks out on his field of cows. His eldest son stands in the middle of it, playing with an old piece of machinery from dell's old service as a mercenary.  
He stands up from his old, tarnished wooden chair and leans out of the window.  
The warm Texan air is quite pleasant on his cheeks, it caresses him wistfully and leaves without any trace of having been there. He looks out to his field and yells:  
"Dell conahger .Jr, what is that that you have there?!"  
His son jumps at his father's voice. He shouts back in the best innocent voice a 12 year old could manage:  
"Nothin' pa. It's just an old satilitey thing you used to use. "  
The engineer turns on his heels and marches as fast as he can to his son in the field. Outside, the air is even more intense. His ranch is modest, situated in the middle of nowhere, exactly where dell wanted. He passes his water silo, his corn fields and his inventors shed. He must have forgotten to lock it last night. Age had been quite cruel to the old engineer. At age 59, he was hardly the fit age to rear any children, much less two.  
He marches through the open gate, and past the mass of cows, to find his son moving a gear stick attached to the hand held satellite.  
It takes the engineer a while to work out what Dell Jr. has. But when he does...  
"Sweet Jesus son, you put that down. That is not a toy. "  
His son looks up at his dad. Though he has the tired eyes of a man who has seen many things, he can still hold a strong gaze.  
Dell .Jr purses his lips and hands it to his dad. Through a guilty face, he asks:  
"What is it, pa? "  
Cradling the old device in his arms, Dell senior looks down at his son and says quietly:  
"S'called a wrangler. And I told you not to touch that darn thing. You don't know what could happen."  
Realising that his lesson has set in, dell takes his son by the hand and leads him away.  
"Do you want some ice cream? "  
Dell .Jr nods excitedly.  
"Ok, go get your brother and ask your ma' to whip you both up some. "  
"You don't want any?"  
"Naw, I gotta' put this back, now g'won, git."  
The engineer heads to his shed. The thick steel doors would hold off all sorts of attacks. He had been quite wary of grey Mann's intentions when he severed their contracts. But dell slept easy at night, knowing he had his wife at his side, and a trusty shotgun under his bed.  
As he enters the shed, he notices an array of messages on his computer screen. They are from his old work mate, Steve. He sets the wrangler back in its place and turns to the terminal.  
The message from Steve reads:  
Hey dell, how's things? I've been well. My new creation, mac is really taking off. But of course, you'll be allowed all the new mac prototypes free of charge. Still, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. remember '73? The hats? Well they've discovered 12 of them in the Franklin mountains state park. What's more, they have found traces of australium in the alloys used to make the hats.  
Best wishes, your old friend Steve.

The engineer's mind suddenly jumps into overdrive. With a feasible amount of australium, he could create many amazing things. Later that day, after packing his pick-up truck with provisions and weapons, he turns to his wife.  
"Baby, I'm only gon' be a few days. I just gotta go to the state park to get some stone that I need."  
He kisses her gently and whispers I'm her ear:  
"I'll be home soon. You take care of .Jr and little radigan II, hear? I love you."

Donald Johnson  
"Set. Pitch. Bowl!"  
The bat swings forward, cutting the air. It connects with the baseball and sends it flying out of the ball park.  
Donald throws his head back, outstretches his arms and yells:  
"Outta the fuckin' ball park!"  
He looks over at a fielder who is giving him a bitter stare. Donald cocks his head and shouts:  
"Yeah, a lot of good that catchers mitt did ya, eh chuckle nuts?"  
Even now at 44 years of age, Donald Johnson still speaks as he did 26 years ago. The referee calls game over, and Donald walks over to the fielder with a eye problem.  
"Ey, fuck stick, you got a problem with your eyes? Cus ill fuckin' give you one."  
The fielder grabs Donald by the left arm and swings him. Donald, having grappled with big Russian bastards in his time, rights his weight and swings his fist into the fielder's face. It makes a fine connection and the fielder falls to Donald's feet, blood dripping from his mouth.  
"Yeah, you suck, shit head."  
After showering down and admiring his rippling muscles in a mirror for 20 minutes, he decides to get dressed into his casual black suit and heads outside to his Lexus. As he nears his matte black sports car, he is stopped by a reporter. She has light, ginger hair, a small frame and hides her eyes behind her tinted glasses. She stops him and blurts out:  
"Mr Johnson, what do you have to say about that fielder you beat up?"  
He looks at her breasts and quips:  
"Nice boobs. How'd you like me to hit you tonight?"  
She takes a step back and recollects herself:  
"Mr Johnson, I'm not some fan girl, I'm a reporter. People will want answers for that stunt you pulled."  
He kisses his teeth and says with a cocky smile:  
"I'm a force a nature. You don't fuck with the Boston slugga. now, how'd you like to see my pad?"  
She turns and walks away.  
"Aw crap."  
He gets into his Lexus and drives back to his mansion in Beverly hills. He gets through the door, only to be greeted by his cat, Li'll slugger.  
His cat is a ginger tabby with short fur. Donald came across him a year ago, when an old tramp was about to set him on fire. Having flashbacks of the pyro, he felt compelled to save the little guy.  
"I smacked someone up today. He gave me eyes, so I gave him a broken jaw"  
He crosses his main room into his marble kitchen. He takes out a can of cat food and opens it. He puts the food into a golden inlaid bowl and puts it on the floor for li'll slugger. As he does, he notices that his arm is aching.  
"Shit, that ain't good. I hate getting older. I wish that I could ask the crazy Texan for some help, but he doesn't like speaking to me... And these 2 robot hats I got... They're shit. Ah, slugger. You gots it easy, my man."  
he turns on his t.v, and checks the news. A reporter is announcing a breaking headline:  
"This just in, australium imbued robot hats have been discovered in the Franklin national park in Texas. Word is that the former CEO of Mann industries, Saxton hale is en route to the park to appraise the hats. Austrailium is an old element, said to give its user immortality. It can also be used to help with physical problems, and even make people extremely intelligent"  
Quick as a flash, the scout takes out an address book and looks for Dell Conahger in it.  
"Texas. Well, slugger, looks like daddy is off on a trip."

Alleta Pauling  
"Ok class, let's go over the biology of the human body."  
She takes the pointer and aims it at the throat.  
Her class shout out in a high pitched scream:  
"THROAT!"  
She smiles at her class and points at the stomach. As she does, the head master comes in. He gives her a sullen look as he speaks:  
"Miss pauling, you have an elderly man here to see you. He looks to be around 60."  
She smiles.  
"Ok class, do some revision. When I'm back, we'll be doing a test."  
She follows the head master as he leads her to the library. She walks in alone, to see a figure in the corner.  
"Sir? I am Alleta pauling, how can I help?"  
The figure looks up at her through glasses. His blue eyes meet her hazel eyes.  
"So... Fraulein Pauling. You became a teacher?"  
She frowns at the voice more than the eyes. She looks him up and down.  
"Stand up."  
"You would not ask an old man like me to stand, would you?"  
"You're not old, and you... I swear I know you."  
The man rises, and his old, tired demeanour is shattered by his proud posture and his perfectly kept clothes.  
"Ja, I should have become an aktor, but I decided to enjoy retirement."  
His smile says it all.  
"Doctor... Nizel?"  
The man strides closer to her, revealing his face. It is just as it was. 26 years ago. He wears his hair and his clothes the same.  
"Zat's medic to you."  
Alleta is shaking gently now. She doesn't know why. She swallows hard and speaks:  
"You're dead. You're listed as dead"  
He musters the warmest smile a homicidal monster could muster.  
"Nein, just comatose."  
"I don't get it. You're listed as dead by the hospital that you were checked into."  
"Nein, Nein, Nein... The hospital was my own operating room. I pronounced myself dead after I injected the serum. Just incase."  
"Serum?"  
"Ja. It was a little rattlesnake blood, some Galapagos turtle blood and a small amount of petroleum."  
Alleta looks him up and down, he looks quite good for 74. The same can't be said for her, and she's 51.  
"Why are you here, Sigmund?"  
"Firstly, ms. Pauling, I'm ze doktor. Secondly, I am here for my savings. You have ze code to my bank vault. I vould like eit."  
Alleta shakes her head and thinks hard.  
"Umm... Your code... Doctor, you see, after you were pronounced dead, we destroyed the vault's contents. One of grey Mann's contingency plans. In case anything got out."  
The medic's mouth is wide open. He closes his mouth and straightens his glasses.  
"Mein hats, Mein five million fortune... Mein robotic hats. Gott ein himmel."  
Alleta looks away from his cold gaze and mutters:  
"There is one place that your things could be... Remember September 1970? When you had to name a next of kin? You listed the sniper, Mr Mundy as your lawful heir. When you died, he may have received your belongings."  
The medic's voice is pure ice now:  
"Vere. Does. He. Live?"  
She winces at the coldness of his voice.  
"Somewhere in Alaska."  
"Gut... You're coming with me. So you can sign my belongings back to me. And if you refuse, ms pauling... I vill cut out your eyes and use zem as little ornaments. Now, pack your bags und quit your job. You're going to Alaska."

Julian Mundy  
"Now, remember son. We assassins have standards. We be polite, we be efficient, and above all, we make a plan to kill everyone and thing we meet or see."  
The aged sniper steadies his son's aim. The are hunting a bear. It is eating a fresh caught salmon, unaware of the sniper and his apprentice on the snowy ridge above. His son looks up from his scope, only to be put back to it by his father's steady hand.  
"Don't think, don't talk, just study the Target. Be calm, Elliot. Now study your Target. Get a feel for the target. Breathe like it, think like it. Imagine its' next move."  
Elliot breathes deeply, puts his reticule over the bear's head. He places his frost bitten finger on the trigger of his father's hunting rifle.  
"Ready son? Just breathe. Now squeeze gently."  
Elliot breathes deep and pulls the trigger. A deafening crack, all too usual to the sniper, cuts the calm air. As the bullet whizzes to the bear's head. Before it knows, the bear falls limply to the ice clad rocks in a hail of sinew and blood. The crimson red splatters onto the crisp, white show, melting it in the process.  
"Nicely done Elliot. Now we can use his skin for your new blanket. And bear meat sure does taste good when roasted over a open fire. Blimey, first bear at 12 years of age! Well done."  
Elliot returns to his scope as he watches his father retrieve the body. Julian looks up to his son. Elliot waves his hand, motioning for his father to come to him. Instantly sensing the worry in his son's actions, the sniper rushes up to the ridge, slides onto his stomach and takes the sniper from his sons arms.  
"Dad, I spotted some people in the brush."  
Sniper can't see any movement. Only a snow white array of ferns and bushes.  
"Ok son, what did they look like?"  
Elliot cocks his head and answers his father.  
"One was a man, looked your age. He was wearing a white trench coat with some black boots and brown breaches. He has glasses."  
The sniper squints  
"Could it be?"  
He mutters, thoughts of a very familiar German flooding to his mind.  
"The next one was a woman, she had a white coat on, and white trousers and boots. She had her hood up though."  
He stands up, and looks for a better vantage point. he settles behind two rocks near the peak of the ridge. He looks onto the other side of the brush. As he looks through his scope, he sees that they aren't there any more.  
"C'mon son, let's get back To the shack."  
They trudge back to the shack in silence. As he opens the door to his home for the last 15 years, he gets a strong feeling of sadness. He looks at the picture of his late wife, Mandy. he can't help but feel that life isn't as great as he thought. Elliot takes off his jacket and boots. As he looks at his father.  
"Do you think she's proud?"  
He murmurs, absently:  
"Not really son. You know how your mam was very against that sorta thing."  
He waits for the inevitable. The rapping at the door puts his mind at ease finally. As he opens the wooden door, he takes a breath. He is greeted by a visage of an old grey haired man, wearing glasses and a pair of familiar red gloves.  
"Guten morgen, mien Australian kamerade!"

Aletta Pauling  
"Guten morgen, mien Australian kamerade!"  
The medic chimes while standing on the snow caked porch of the sniper's shack.  
The sniper looks the medic up and down, until he finally speaks:  
"Elliot, g'an get me some lumber for the fire."  
He raises an eyebrow as the medic lets the boy pass.  
The old man looks at the sniper.  
"Mein Gott, he is so old now." Thinks the medic.  
Finally, he speaks:  
"Sniper, I have come fur Mein belongings."  
The sniper takes a cigarette from his battered old hunting vest and lights it with a very familiar lighter.  
"Vere did you get zat?"  
The sniper takes a drag and flips his hat with his free hand. He fixes the medics with a cold stare.  
"26 years... Listen, mayte. You gots about 10 seconds to fack off outta here, or ill beat the shiet ouytta you."  
The doctor steps back at the anger in the sniper's voice.  
He composes himself and frowns. Through concerned eyes, he says in a sullen tone:  
"I have brought fraulein pauling. Ve are here for Mein belongings. then, I'm gone."  
The sniper looks at a small, aged miss pauling. He gives her a curt nod and mutters:  
"You best be getting outta here, missy. Some Germans are about to have a really bad day."  
"Vat do you-"  
The doctor is cut off with a wild left hook to the jaw. It connects and he stumbles. The medic throws his fists up and eyes the sniper with pure anger. The medic throws a straight right jab, it makes great connection and the sniper coughs sharply. The medic goes to grab the sniper by the scruff of his shirt, when the latter bats away the hand and follows with a hay maker from the right hand. It makes an almighty crack and the medic is thrown off his feet. Through mouthfuls of blood, he snarls:  
"Sheissie. I vas here for mien BELONGINGS, VERDAMNIT!"  
Through gritted teeth, the sniper growls:  
"Ere's yer key. Safes out the back. Gots the initials S.N on it. Take yer shit an fack off."  
An otherwise docile Alleta pauling steps forward. In a quiet tone, she says:  
"Mr Mundy, we are here for another reason, aside from the doctor's belongings."  
"An what's that then, missy?"  
The medic stands, turns on his heel and strides out the door, cursing in German.  
"Do you remember 1973?"  
She continues. The sniper gives a nod.  
"Well, those hats that you all brought, they contain australium, the rarest element on earth."  
"Aind?"  
"And, Mr Mundy, the effect of this discovery may shape the future of earth. We need to gather them all and destroy them."  
He purses his lips.  
"Sorry, Sheila, but I gots a little boy Naw. My little Elliot. I cant be goin out an gittin hats for you."  
She smiles at him kindly.  
"Julian... You said the same thing 27 years ago, when we reassembled the team. Please, you know that this is for a good cause."  
"S'pose id be best off trying a talk to a brick wall. Who's with us, apart from the doctor?"  
She frowns, and says, while thinking:  
"Doctor Nizel is lawfully dead. He doesn't know about our real mission. But I am more than sure that Donald and dell aren't the only others."  
"That tough old Texan is still going? And Donald... I heard that he went pro. God damn scout. Now he's a celebrity."  
She smiles:  
"Are you in?"  
A small smile shows on his face:  
"No pay, shit 'ours, chance of death. course I'm in, mayte!"

Saxton Hale  
He hadn't rode in a plane since 1984, when he was at the world cup. The other times, he'd run or drive to his destinations. It felt all the more worse to Saxton, knowing that he wouldn't be jumping out of the plane. He has his aide, Mickey Tollan with him. He met mickey two years ago when he was watching a shark fight. Mickey was the bookie. Saxton made a good thirteen grand from that. He smiles at mickey.  
Mickey smiles back and shouts over the whirr of the plane's engine:  
"Mr hale, why are we going to Texas.?"  
Saxton answers after a sort pause:  
"We have to find these hats and then extract the australium from them."  
Mickey frowns.  
"But we can't do that. You're old now. I mean, Mr hale, don't you think that its time you sort of accepted this fate?"  
Fate was the last word Mickey uttered. Saxton clenches his fist, stands up and punches Mickey so hard, his neck snaps.  
As he sits lifeless in his seat, Saxton smiles as he mutters:  
"Wow, I still got it"  
They touch down an hour after Saxton's cunning body concealment plan. He threw mickey's body out of the entrance door, he made sure that Mickey wore a parachute... with a broken pull string.  
As quickly as Saxton sets foot on the sun burnt air strip, the plane takes off.  
"So this is Texas... It's just like Teufort." Thinks Saxton. He gets into the taxi he ordered. After a conversation about kangaroo boxing, Saxton finds himself at the Franklin state national park. He goes to cross the threshold when he is stopped by a big burly park ranger. The ranger looks quite old, and his eyes are hidden by his ranger hat.  
"What are you doing here, mag- sorry, sir"  
Saxton looks up at the ranger's hat and answers:  
"I know your supremacy laced voice. I know you... You're that American half wit that I rehired to fight the robots. Soldier."  
The park ranger adjusts his hat, and answers to Saxton:  
"Listen to me old man, I have cause to suspect that you are a dirty commie maggot. So you need to make a one-eighty turn and go back the way you came."  
Saxton just grabs the ex-soldier's left hand and twists it. The American lets out a yelp of pain. Saxton bellows:  
"You are a coward. You ran away just as Ms. Pauling was bringing the team back to base after fighting Greytarch Mann. You little bastard, you'll let me past or i'll tear more than an arm off."  
He lets the arm go. The soldier smiles and lets Saxton pass. He straightens back up after Saxton is out of eyesight.  
As he nears the hat site, Saxton can't help but feel excited. He crosses a river, to an old cavern. There are all sorts of science apparatus set up in the cavern. And there, in the back, guarded by 2 burly men, sit the 12 hats that Saxton so badly wants.  
He grabs a rock and pelts it at a passing scientist. It makes a 'conk' noise as it hits his head. He falls into the river and washes away. Saxton continues into the cavern. The two men ready their guns as they see him and bark:  
"Who are you?"  
Saxton grins and shouts:  
"SAXTON HALE!"

Dell Conahger  
The drive had only been 2 hours, but it felt like years to the excited engineer. He lets out a little yippee as he takes a shotgun from the back of his van. after looking skyward, he heads up to the gates. The park ranger, still nursing his wrist, stands to attention before his old colleague. He looks the old man up and down. At first glance, he couldn't make out the engineer. Mainly because he wears a white cotton shirt and black trousers with his old boots. No hard hat, no goggles, no glove. He looks normal. The park ranger clears his throat and demands:  
"Who are you, and what do you want?"  
Dell is taken back by the familiarity in the ranger's voice. With a furrowed brow, he questioningly asks:  
"Who are you?"  
The ranger rares up on the engineer and shouts:  
"I am Dane Joe, park ranger! Now listen, you little maggot, you answer me or I will sanction your face with my all American fist, you commie!"  
"Now what in Sam hell?"  
The engineer starts to piece the past back together. He slowly reaches a conclusion when the ex-soldier slowly says:  
"I know that rough com- ahem, Texan accent. You... You're... Engineer?"  
Dell slowly asks:  
"Soldier?"  
"I'm not a soldier any more. I got mustered out when I left base without resignation. Still, I'm happy here. What are you doing here, hard hat?"  
Dell smiles and chimes:  
"Well, good to see that me and that scout aren't the only two of us left alive. Hoooheee, pardner! I need to get to those hats."  
The soldier looks at dell with a raised eyebrow.  
"What is so special about those things?"  
"Australium. The last in the world. We need it! Why don't you tag along? You don't look like you have family or anything. No offence."  
The soldier purses his lips. He smiles and makes an animal call. A deer comes running to him. He takes off his hat, revealing his old, wrinkly skin. He places the hat on the deer's head.  
"Now, lieutenant antler, its your job to mind the park. I'm going on to be in the old engineer's charge for a while. Look out for commies."  
And with that, they adventure on, reunited as colleagues once more.  
They arrive at the cave too late. The equipment that once was is now scattered all over the cave floor. The crate is still in place. Engineer walks over to the crate and pulls on the lid. He finds the mangled heads of the two guards inside, with a note written on some of the men's skin:  
"Let it be known that I, Saxton hale have reprocessed these hats in the name of the late Mann co. I have also decided to let you all know that... SAXTON IS COMING BACK!  
p.s, I thought I'd keep it original like zephaniah Mann and write this on skin.  
The soldier just looks around the bloodstained cavern, absently. Dell looks out at the forest and mutters:  
"Son of a bitch."  
The soldier turns to dell and whispers:  
"My name is Jane Doe. Not Dane Joe."  
The engineer rolls his eyes.

Donald Johnson  
After driving for 4 days straight, fuelled on energy drinks and cocaine, the baseball player finally arrives at the engineer's small ranch in mid Texas, unaware that the engineer and his new companion were at Franklin state park. He pulls his now dust covered Lexus into a cosy spot between two storage sheds. He steps out and stops to relive himself. He lets a warm, orange stream of urine. It coats the left wall of the storage shed. He finishes and looks around. He grumbles as he heads up to the farmhouse:  
"Great, I'm in bone county, Texas. God, I hope shit don't go all deliverance on me..."  
As he goes to rap on the wooden door of the house, a large surly voice greets him from behind. He spins at the voice and locks eyes with a tall, ginger haired woman. She has a large, stout frame and a deep voice, deserving of her size.  
She squints and calls:  
"You there, city boy. What you doin?"  
The scout cooly walks over to the engineer's wife and answers, in a smooth tone:  
"Looking for the girla my dreams. I think I found her"  
She glares at him with her hazel eyes.  
He pouts and answers truthfully:  
"I'm lookin' for the engineer."  
Her eyes go wide, and she throws a watering can that was in her right hand at him. It hits him in the face, putting him on the dusty floor, with a suprised yelp.  
She grabs him by the arm before he can recover and chicken wings him. As he struggles, he shouts:  
"Aw crap! You're one of those lady men! Look, please don't do things to me!"  
She speeds up. As they get inside, she hits him so hard that he loses his sight, and passes out.  
His head pounds. He can't see properly. He can't move his legs or arms, and he feels as if he's being choked. As he slowly adjusts his eyes, he can make out 2 figures and one voice.  
"Hee loos peeki"  
"How ard du hit him?"  
"Not too hard. Look, hes coming around"  
Donald exhales slowly. He looks up, and sees the bald head and grey blue eyes of his old collegue. He frowns at the other voice. Then he remembers where he is. He blurts out as fast as he can:  
"Don't sodomise me! Please, I was looking for a guy named Dell. Just let me go."  
The bald man levels himself to the man's eyes. The scout gasps. He then goes on to say, calmly:  
"Ok... Engineer. I'm sorry for insulting you like that. I was looking for you and... Can you cut me free?"  
Dell wamly chuckles as he used to. He takes out a pen knife and cuts the scout free. Donald stands stiffly, rubs his head and turns to his captor. He says through apologetic eyes:  
"I am so sorry"  
She smiles and answers him:  
"S'allright, fella. I thought you was one of that Grey Mann's assassins, come to kill my Dell."  
The engineer smiles warmly at his wife and kisses her on the cheek. He turns to the scout.  
"What brings you here then, lil man?"  
"Well, I hoped I could pay you to make me an arm implant. You see, you live in Texas, so you don't need a medical license to install it. Also, I heard about the australium in those hats. Wondered if you'd help, I got two in my car. dunno if that's enough though."  
The engineer's face turns cold.  
"That stuff... It's gone. Our old employer, Saxton hale took the hats, and left a note penned on the skin of one of those poor bastards."  
His wife clips him around the ear and hisses:  
"Dell .Jr and radigan are in the next room with your other American."  
Scout chuckles and asks with a hint of curiosity:  
"You had kids?"  
Dell nods.  
"Who's the American?"  
Dell just smiles knowingly and invites Donald into the other room for coffee and a chat.  
As Donald enters the room, his and the soldier's eyes both go wide.  
"Soldier!"  
"It's... It's... That little sex monster! I don't get it! What's he doing here?"  
"Oh nice, thanks for welcoming me."  
Scout takes a seat next to Radigan. Radigan is a small child, he looks to be only 10. He's fiddling with a small metal sphere.  
"What you got there?"  
Radigan looks up at the baseballer and smiles  
"Sa working model of a magnetosphere. Touch it."  
The engineer is snickering quietly in the corner of the cosy dining room. Scout's finger gets within a few centremetres of the sphere, when... ZAPP!  
"AH! Jesus kid, you're mad. Just like your gear head dad."  
Scout licks his finger as the room comes alive with laughter. When it dies down, dell sends his kids and his wife up to bed. They all oblige.  
"So... You want an arm implant?"  
The engineer begins. Scout nods as he takes a sip of warm black coffee.  
"What for?"  
The soldier butts in.  
"My batting arm has gotten a bit... Crap really. I need you to give me an implant to keep the joint gestures to the engineer with a half bitten biscuit.  
"Ok, lil man, ill make your arm implant. We need more than two hats worth of Australium."

Sigmund Nizel  
"Gah, I'm covered in my blut. Goddamn sniper. Big nosed swine."  
The bleeding has stopped and the old medic is furious. He takes the key out of his breast pocket and examines it. It's an old key, tarnished and rough to the touch. As he arrives at the back of the shack, he spies his vault. The initals, still read:  
'S.N'  
"I said S.N. P.H.D"  
he takes the key and puts it into the keyhole. It makes a little click,and the door swings open with a creak. The contents sits neatly, undisturbed for 26 years. The Wads of euro notes sit dutifully on the top shelf, the hats that he brought during his time, sit in the second shelf. And there it sits. His trusty vitasaw. He smiles as if reunited with an old friend. He smiled the same not twenty minutes ago. Not quite the same could be said for the sniper. His nose aches and he feels quite tired. Given the fact that he is 72, the doctor can't help but feel proud that he made the climb to the shack with Alleta. He opens his satchel, and carefully puts his money and hats into the battered old thing. He straps the vitasaw to the pressure clip on his belt.  
He locks the vault and heads back into the shack. Alleta and the sniper are drinking tea, while Elliot makes some sandwiches. The medic's face is that of sorrow now. He looks to the sniper and says:  
"I am so sorry. I really mean it kamerade. I did not mean to insult you. Can you forgive me?"  
Sniper looks up, his dark green eyes reflecting the flickering hearth flame. He starts:  
"Look, mate. I'm sorry. I acted real bad just then, and it wasn't very good."  
The sniper smiles, and finishes with:  
"Let's start again, eh? But for real this time. I'm Mundy, Julian Mundy."  
"Doctor Sigmund Nizel"  
They shake hands, and smile as old friends. Aletta pipes up from her little chair in the corner:  
"Well... doctor, we were just discussing a little... Problem regarding your metallic hats. See, they are very deadly. They contain australium. People will kill for it. You owe it to your old team to destroy them."  
When medic got that malicious look in his eyes, the sniper clenched his fist. But, instead, the medic only opened his satchel, took out the hats and gave them to Aletta.  
"Vere are ze others?"  
"Well... You see mate, we gotta go Texas."  
Elliot looks at his father:  
"What about me?"  
"Well son, ms. Pauling here has just the place for you."  
"Really?"  
"Son, ya goin ta live with an old lady named..."  
He sighs sadly.  
"Helen the second."

Saxton Hale  
For the first time in 5 years, Saxton runs. He skitters trough the forest, branches of dark green, swiping him as he goes. He clutches the twelve robotic hats tightly in his hands. He has a childish grin pasted across his face. He keeps running, determined not to give up the invaluable fortune of life. He stops to look. He can see nothing but forest trees. He can't hear the river any more. He can only hear birds, singing their song. As he runs, he lets out a vicious growl to himself:  
"Mine! It's mine!"  
He cackles evilly. He eventually makes it to civilisation. He runs onto a road, and stops. He looks out at the surrounding land. He can see shops, cars and buses. Speaking of, he was stood face to face with a land rover. He looks the driver in the eye and growls. He turns and runs once more. He finally stops after he spies a taxi in a parking lot. As he walks, he adjusts his speed, and begins to hide his hats. He makes it over to the taxi. As the driver looks up at him, Saxton jumps in and shouts:  
"Take me to an airport."  
The driver starts:  
"Oi I'm on-"  
"AIRPORT. NOW!"  
The driver shrugs and pulls out. He drives for a few minutes before he asks:  
"So what are those hats there?"  
Saxton squints and simply growls:  
"Shut up. Drive."  
The driver sighs and keeps driving.  
They arrive a few hours later. The driver looks at Saxton and flatly grunts:  
"Well, seeing as I've just been a long time driving, I'd say $150"  
Saxton clenches his free fist and punches the driver in the face. The driver slumps over the steering wheel.  
"Oh blimey, the hats are making me stronger already"  
Snickers Saxton.  
He gets out of the taxi and heads to the main terminal.  
He arrives in time for his flight. As he takes his seat, and opens up his travel bag. There they sit, his 12 australium mines. He laughs loudly. He then falls into a quiet, blissful sleep. He dreams of the times gone, when he battled sharks and the evil animals of darling's zoo. As he awakes, he sees the visage that has haunted him for so long:  
Helen.

Julian Mundy  
He takes a left at the intersection. The passengers sway to the right in the old, rickety camper van. Julian just couldn't part with his old van, not even after the long years he spent fighting against BLU. it was a constant reminder of his time spent at teufort, and he hated every memory. Why was he even with them? His son he could understand, but the doctor? And Alleta? He curses quietly to himself. Sigmund looks over at Julian as they speed up.  
"Tell me, kamerade, how have you fared these last 26 years?"  
Julian sighs deeply and replies:  
"Well enough. Im not being rude or nothin' doc, but we ain't got much to talk abaut."  
He turns a right, and speeds up.  
The medic's face is that of hurt as he continues:  
"Vell, I see zat you have a child."  
"He's my son, and thats that."  
Sigmund straightens his tie and turns to Alleta. She is playing a game of chess with the young sniper.  
"I do not know why you hold me in such a low regard. I have not done any ving to annoy you."  
"You showed up on my door step. I actually wished that you'd ave died."  
"Vat? Vhy? I spent many years taking care of your bullet wounds, cuts, burns und bruzes, und for Vat? To be hated by an old kamerade."  
The sniper turns off to a small country road, and continues driving. He takes out a cigarette from his pack of 20 and lights it up with his free hand.  
"What'in you wanting anyway? You're in yur seventies, and I'm 58. Is it glory? Or being able to hurt people again?  
The doctor purses his lips.  
"Nein. I just vant to see Mein old team. Do you not vish for ze same?"  
"Not really, or I wouldn't have lived in the peaks of Alaska."  
They spend the rest of the ride in silence, save for the odd exhale of Julian's smoke or the two other companions stating checkmate.  
They arrive as dusk looms over the green hills. Julian looks up at the sky. The red and pink merge to make a rather picturesque sight of an April sunset. The days were slightly longer, and warmer. Not that the warmth was anything to Julian. He had slept in snow drifts to stop a bullet taking his head off during his time at RED. The only thing he couldn't stand more than the medic was the idea of the BLU sniper showing up. With his crappy black aviators and his good for nothing Springfield sniper.  
The manor looked like a typical Kansas homestead. A few crops in the fields, and the big house. It looked colonial.  
"Quite fitting of an old coot like Helen."  
Thought Julian. As they near the door, they are greeted by an old dark skinned man. He looks at the four travellers with suspicious eyes. He finally pipes up after meeting Julian's stare.  
"Whats that you wanting?"  
Alleta steps forward, her blue eyes reflecting the now magenta sky.  
"I contacted Helen a few days ago. I've got the sniper's son here."  
The old man smooths out his overalls and smiles warmly at the young adolescent.  
"Hello there boy, I'm smit. I'm Helen's husband."  
Julian chuckles quietly to himself. "_Helen... Is married to a decrepit old man like that? He looks like a simpleton. Still... Opposites attract, huh?"_  
The boy steps toward smit. He looks back at his dad and turns to hug him.  
"Dad'il be back soon boy. I'll see you then. And I love you."  
He kisses his son and turns to smit.  
"Now I'm not generally like this, much less to old men, even moreso in front of my son... But, you or Helen do anything that he deems uncomfortable, and ill come back and blow yer facking brains out."  
Smit flinches at the venom in Julian's voice.  
"Okay... You gots my promise. Me and Helen will take good care of him. You want is should send him to school?"  
"Naw, just let him explore. And if he wants to use his pellet rifle, let him."  
They shake hands and nod. Back in the van now, Sigmund turns to Alleta.  
"Vere now, fraulein?"  
"Well, it would seem that our closest member of the team is Dell Connahger. The engineer. He's in Texas."  
"Ah, now that's a guy I have missed a little. I do wonder how old truckie is doing."

Jane Doe  
There are no more pop tarts.  
Jane shambles over to the other cupboard, and opens it up. He takes out a can of SPAM.  
"Ahh, SPAM. a great example of pure, unadulterated America"  
Jane turns the can. On the back, it reads:  
"Made in China"  
His eyes go wide, and he throws the can, as if it contained some sort of vile illness.  
"God damn commies."  
Jane always was an odd sleeper. One day, he'd be up early in the morning. another, he'd not stir until gone 2 or 3 in the afternoon.  
It was even more strange that he found himself eating this early. He makes himself a coffee, and sets down at the dining table. He takes a sip of the hot black liquid. It helps him to focus on the task at hand. He has to help his old comrades to retrieve the hats. The sun is higher in the sky as a rough looking scout enters the room. He looks as if he drank too much. The bruise on his brow is a dark purple. He nods at the soldier as he pours a coffee.  
"Morning, soldier!"  
Jane chimes as he looks at the scout.  
"Don't be shouting at me. I'm too tired."  
The soldier groans and goes back to his coffee. He looks out at the ranch and its long dusty fields. They must have seen better times in the past. But still, Jane had no time to be worrying about little things like his old comrade's Homestead. He had to help plan and prepare. Their job was to find Saxton and retrieve the hats. Not that Jane had any idea of how he'd do that. His old rocket launcher was long gone. He couldn't use a shotgun as well as he used to. He looks at the tired scout. He still can't believe that he's still quite young.  
"So, you play ball?"  
The scout looks up from his coffee, squints and says:  
"Yeh, well, I did until I did my arm in."  
The soldier grunts. He looks at a clock on the wall. It's 9:07 in the morning. The rays of sunlight dance on the varnished wooden floor. He stands, and walks to his bag. He looks around, and takes out the head of a very familiar person: the pyro.  
The soldier holds a head that he takes out in the hazy Texan light and looks at it.  
"Ahh, the burning monster... How are you?"  
The pyro was dead, but not to Jane. He saw the same soulless monster that he battled against and fought alongside 26 years ago. The mask had not been removed. He decided to leave it on as a last testament to the fiery comrade that he thought so reclusive.  
"So, now we have a chance to bring you back, soldier."  
The old soldier remembered the pyro's death vividly. They had just had their contracts severed, and Jane was going to grab some gas for the transport that they were using. The pyro was sitting on a rock, while the others were searching the area. Suddenly, the transport truck that would take them back to Teufort exploded.  
All Jane found was the pyro's head. He slipped it into his satchel and ran as fast as he could, back to his safe. He took his money and saluted his dead comrades. Or so he thought them dead. He had learnt to suppress even more emotion since then. Still, the day was young. And Jane had a request for the engineer.

Julian Mundy  
"So, this is the truckie's old place? Well, that so like 'im"  
The sniper looks at the inventing shed with a quizzical look. The morning was hot here, and the sniper decided to wear his sweatshirt-vest combo. The medic and Aletta are looking at the silly grin pasted on his face. The medic snorts and walks up the dusty path. Aletta and Julian follow. As they near the modest home, Julian stops to notice a black Lexus parked between two sheds.  
He just smiles at the fact that old work mate can live nicely. As they near the doors, the medic pipes up:  
"Gah, ven did ze engineer start living like a cattle rustler?"  
Julian laughs to himself inside.  
"An, when did you start to become a mad act... Oh wait. It's just embedded there."  
The medic shoots him a dirty look. Sniper smirks and knocks on the door. It may be midday, but most people tend to sleep in hot climates. Especially during the hottest hours of the day. Julian was a fit man when he was younger. And more fitter now, but he was sweating under his armpits.  
They are greeted by a small boy. He looks to be no older than 12. He looks up at the three and calls:  
"Pa, we got some visitors."  
"What they look like, Jr.?"  
"Official."  
Julian hears some footsteps, and then sees. Their eyes meet and suddenly, they know.  
"Ju...Julian?"  
"Truckie."  
They hug on the porch of the ranch house.  
Julian's grip is still as strong as ever, and the old engineer has to break out of the embrace. Julian starts:  
"Well... I don't really know how to start. See, ms. Pauling would probably explain it better than me. So I'll let her talk."  
Dell furrows his brow and looks at the medic. Sigmund is scowling at the sniper from behind.  
"Tough ride, doc?"  
Sigmund smiles at the engineer. Dell finally decides to break the silence:  
"Go on in. Me and ms. Pauling can chat later. I got a few new faces for you."


End file.
